Casualty List
by Surreptitious Chi X
Summary: One-shot. Set directly after the last credits roll on season 1. Masaki and Cardinal Jouji both think the other is on the casualty list after the Yokohama Invasion is over. For a brief span of hours, Masaki and Jouji believe the other to be dead. Shonen-ai. MasakixJouji.


Author's Note: This fic is set directly after the credits end on season 1 of the show.

Disclaimer: I do not own _Mahouka Koukou no Rettousei_ and make no money from my fanfiction.

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 **Casualty List**

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The debriefing finally ended. Masaki and the others were let out. In the hallway, he took a drink of water from the fountain, glanced over, and saw the sign for the men's room. He walked inside with his head held high. Five o'clock in the morning. Deserted. He bent over a sink and splashed his face. Droplets dripped from the fringe of his hair. He stared down into the white porcelain sink. _Damn it._ He punched the spigot and then the faux granite sink counter. _Damn it all!_ He squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth to keep from collapsing.

Then someone else came in from the debriefing, and he hastily straightened and walked out.

A few hushed conversations later, and Masaki was able to secure transportation to rejoin his remaining classmates at the shelter the second bus had gone to. He sat in the jeep with his posture straight and his hands folded in his lap. The gray predawn washed over the wreckage in the streets, the damaged buildings. _Somewhere, somewhere in this mess, is Jouji's body. When will they find it? Will I have to identify him? I suppose so._

Masaki bowed his head, his hands clenching again. _Will they let me cradle you in my arms?_

xXx

Jouji lay on a blanket in the corner of a gymnasium. The military had put up blockades and rerouted traffic, sending people from out of town to designated safe places. Third High's two buses had been rerouted to a local junior high school. Requests for supplies had gone out over TV and the internet, and people had brought blankets, hygiene supplies, and food.

Jouji didn't care about any of that right now. He was pretending to sleep so people would leave him alone.

His phone lay beside him on the blanket. He had rolled over so he faced the wall, making sure no one could see he was awake. He ended up staring at his phone. Damage reports were coming in and had been for hours now. Number of casualties. Number of fatalities. The calling in of disaster relief forces.

And then, around midnight, the list of those who'd been confirmed dead.

The names had complied on the local news webpage, listed in categories: civilians, military personnel, and volunteer forces. The news didn't have time to verify kanji, so the list merely read in basic katakana.

An hour earlier, the list for volunteer forces had updated, and to Jouji's utter horror, it contained the one name he never wanted to see:

Ichijou M.

Jouji had had an instant panic attack.

By this point, they were already at the gym. He'd hidden himself in the bathroom, tried to convince himself that there was someone else named "Ichijou M.," and failed. Then he'd sobbed into his hands while hidden in a stall. He didn't dare let any of his classmates see him. Even though he was a first year, everyone was still looking to him to stay calm, to figure out what to do, to be the leader in Masaki's absence. Masaki and he had shown up and effortlessly taken command of their peers, including their sempai.

Now he had to fulfill the role, even though he was in hell.

 _I didn't want to do this again,_ Jouji thought, staring blankly at the gym wall. _Thanks to the invasion, I buried my parents. I buried a half-dozen school friends. I lost my home, and I became an orphan. I would have had nothing left if not for Masaki and the Ichijou. And now . . . now I have to bury Masaki, too?_

Jouji saw himself standing in the middle of the bus parking lot, surrounded by exploded corpses, begging Masaki to stay safe. _If I had gone with you, would you still be alive? Why didn't you let me go with you!_

He curled up tighter, clutching the blanket over his mouth, and wept.

xXx

As soon as Masaki arrived at the junior high school and the jeep left, he hid outside the entrance, face to the wall, and cried. On the way, one of the staff members had remarked how lucky it was that "almost everyone survived". Masaki had felt himself crack like a raw egg. _I should have stayed! I should have stayed with the buses!_

When his tears subsided, he scrubbed his face with the sleeve of his school jacket, filthy as it was, and marched in with his head held high. He couldn't do less. He was terrified to.

The news from the middle of the debriefing ran through his mind—the moment when the transportation status and a live overhead feed of the city was given. A destroyed charter bus only three blocks from where Masaki had left Jouji, tentatively identified by a scrap of siding that read 151. Third High's first bus number. Several bodies inside, other bodies on the street, face down. A dead driver.

Then, four o'clock in the morning, the civilian casualty list updated, written in katakana. Including one Kichijou S.

Masaki couldn't believe it was a coincidence. He'd spoken up like a true leader and calmly corrected the surname. Everything after that was a blur.

Now Masaki marched through locker lined hallways and pushed through the door into the gymnasium. It smelled like rubber and wood and sweat. Scared, depressed, and sleepy classmates littered the floor, most of them on exercise mats with cheap wool blankets around their shoulders.

Masaki sat cross-legged on the floor in the middle of the gymnasium and bowed his head. He didn't feel like giving any grand speeches or taking charge. Given that half the people were asleep, he didn't even want to announce himself. _I'm back. Back where I 'belong'. Who am I kidding? I'm never going to belong anywhere ever again. Where I belonged was at Jouji's side._

People noticed him anyway. They looked at each other, rubbed their eyes, and whispered.

"That's Ichijou-kun."

"When did he get here?"

"Does this mean the invasion's over?"

"Ichijou-kun."

"Look, it's Masaki-kun!"

Across the gym, Jouji was awakened from a light but miserable doze by the sudden surge of murmurs. He stared at his phone again. With a sense of numb duty, he picked it up, activating the screen and checking the time. 6:14 a.m. He sighed and opened the browser to the previous page. The list of casualties and fatalities had grown—nearly doubled, in fact. He sighed and dropped the phone onto the blanket again.

Then the whispering ghosted over his ears:

"Ichijou-kun is covered in blood."

"Do you think it's all from his enemies, or is he hurt?"

"He looks like he's going to just fall over."

"He probably fought all night long and hasn't slept."

Jouji bolted upright on the blanket. So much adrenaline crashed through his system that his heart pounded, his hands shook, and a cold sweat popped up on his forehead. He scanned the room, desperate to see Masaki and terrified that he wouldn't.

Then, on the far side of the gym, he caught a glimpse of red hair.

Jouji stumbled to his feet, walking down the makeshift rows on wobbly legs. _Be real. Be real. Don't be a dream. Oh, god, don't be a dream. I can't stand it if this isn't real._ He couldn't even speak. Tears burned his eyes. _Masaki!_ Even through his tears, he recognized the familiar shape of his best friend's strong shoulders. _Masaki!_

Masaki glanced up when he caught sight of someone walking. For a second, he couldn't focus in on the pale, round face. He squinted, and his vision sharpened. Every muscle froze, and he couldn't breathe. Jouji. Pain erupted in his chest. _Why do you have to look like Jouji? Who are you?_ Then the student grew close enough for him to see the deep red eyes and the tears coursing down the boy's face.

The world suddenly seemed not real.

Masaki pushed himself up on unsteady legs. Jouji still walked towards him, silently crying. Masaki held out his arms. If he tried to walk, he'd fall flat on his face. "Jouji?" Even though his voice came out tinny and strained, it seemed to echo through the gym. "But you're not – But you – But – " _Kichijou. S. Who is Kichijou S.? I've made a mistake, I have to go back –_

Then he was running at Jouji. He tackled Jouji, spinning them around to avoid falling over, and crushed Jouji against his chest as if someone from the debriefing could come pry Jouji out of his arms and take Jouji away.

Masaki burst out with wracking sobs that thundered through the gymnasium, certainly waking up the few remaining people who had been asleep. "Jouji. J-J-Jouji…"

 _Damage control!_ Jouji's mind screamed. He was a strategist down to the core of his being. "Come with me." He braced one foot on the floor, shifting their weight and forcing Masaki into motion. He led him right out of the gym and down the hall toward an empty classroom. Masaki was hysterical, and so he was automatically calm.

With every step, Jouji felt the pressure building up in his chest. He had one arm wrapped tightly around Masaki's waist and his free hand against Masaki's chest. _Almost there. Almost there._

They reached the room, and Jouji whisked them inside, shutting the door behind them. Then he threw himself onto Masaki's chest, letting Masaki clutch him with bruising tightness. "What's wrong?" He flung his arms around Masaki's waist and hugged him with all his strength. All his own pain and terror got shoved to the side at the sight and sound of Masaki's tears. "What is it?"

"Don't, don't, don't…" Masaki sobbed, trembling and weak with the force of his relief, belated terror, and self-hatred. "Don't ever let me talk you into this again. Come with me. Come with me or I'll think you've been killed! I want you with me!"

"I will go _anywhere_ with you." Jouji felt the tears return to his eyes. "Anywhere. Right into hell, if necessary." He clutched two handfuls of the back of Masaki's coat. "I _want_ to go everywhere you go. I _want_ to be at your side. Always. Forever." Masaki was so warm, so solid, so real, so _alive_. Jouji laid his face against Masaki's shoulder, pressing his forehead against Masaki's neck. "I won't let you talk me into it. I wish I hadn't let you talk me into it this time."

Masaki sank to his knees and brought Jouji with him. He stroked Jouji's hair. "I was an idiot. Forgive me." He felt calmer with Jouji's reassurances. "You're the strategist. I should listen to you. Always."

"No forgiveness is necessary," Jouji murmured. "But Masaki . . . I thought you were dead, too!" His voice cracked, sharp. "I was watching the list of fatalities come in, and an Ichijou M. was reported. I've spent hours thinking you were dead." He shuddered and pressed himself closer into Masaki's embrace. "I can't—I can't live without you. I mean, I _don't want to._ I could, but I don't want to! Don't die on me!"

Masaki was shocked. Then he gathered Jouji against him and held Jouji as closely and as tenderly as possible. He pressed kisses to Jouji's head. "Don't live without me. It won't be necessary. I'm sorry I worried you. I didn't see my own name on the list. I was too busy looking for yours and hoping I wouldn't find it. I misreported your death because I mistook someone else's name." He stroked Jouji's back. "You must have thought you were alone again. It's no wonder you were crying when I saw you."

The sheer gentleness of Masaki's embrace and kisses made Jouji tear up again, but then the significance of the kisses slammed through him and dried the tears. "Yes," he whispered. He lifted his face and caught Masaki's gaze. "Masaki . . ." He wondered how to word this. He understood perfectly well that his relationship with Masaki was an emotional marriage. They had piled all their resources and love and care into each other. Jouji had never dated anyone. Masaki had only been on two dates, and he'd broken it off with both girls after the first date. Jouji had no interest in girls, and Masaki had very little. They saved their time, attention, and energy for each other.

Jouji had read up on relationships, and so he knew what their relationship ultimately meant: a romantic relationship that—thus far at least—wasn't sexual. But he wasn't sure what Masaki thought it meant, and given Masaki's crush on Miyuki, Jouji had to assume Masaki just thought they were very close friends.

And so Jouji struggled with the fear of trying to clarify their feelings so that he could get what he wanted: a boyfriend. "Masaki . . . you do know I love you more than anyone in the world, right?"

Masaki couldn't help the tears welling up and spilling out again. "I know. I'm sorry. We have to stick together. You're right." He caressed Jouji's cheek. "I can't – I can't go on acting like it's all – like it's – we're –" He impulsively kissed Jouji's lips and hoped that didn't get him smacked over the head for his timing. _I want to make some grand admission of my feelings, but I can't._

A sensation of completion washed through Jouji. Completion, relief, specialness. The rest of the world vanished. He kissed Masaki back, showing him that this was wanted, needed. Then Masaki's hand was cupping the back of his head, and Masaki's tongue was sliding into his mouth, and they were both moaning. Jouji was right where he wanted to be: in Masaki's arms, loved, and granted the one thing in the universe that he wanted.

Masaki toppled them over on their sides facing each other and kept kissing, stroking the back of Jouji's head, sighing out an aching moan as their tongues caressed. He pulled them closer, draped leg over Jouji's, fit their bodies together. Without the kissing, they had lain this way before in bed, snuggling each other, even though if they had been discovered, no one would have understood. Now Masaki needed it more than ever, and he felt Jouji must also. _Be with me._ The connection they felt had to be strong enough to overcome the tragedy, strong enough to make sure they were never separated again.

Jouji pressed into the kiss, running his hand up and down Masaki's back. _Yes. God, yes._ He caught Masaki's tongue and sucked on it. _This is absolutely everything I wanted._ He had worried about how he was supposed to find or build this kind of relationship with a woman: total trust, total openness, solid friendship, shared interests, utter dedication, emotional intimacy, and deep care. How was he supposed to find all this and then manage a sexual element on top of it? He already had everything he wanted with Masaki, save for the final piece. Now he had that, too. _I won't give this up. Ever. I refuse._ He paused, catching his breath, then kissed Masaki all over again, slipping his tongue into Masaki's mouth.

Masaki moaned and readjusted, caressing Jouji's tongue and gently sucking on it for a moment. His cheeks heated up, and a sharp pang of arousal shot through him and made him half-hard. He stroked the back of Jouji's neck as his body gradually relaxed. The pleasure and the familiarity of Jouji made him let his defenses down. He was suddenly lightheaded from exhaustion. But there was nothing he would allow to get in the way of this moment. His nervousness about _what_ _if_ , and _I'm not good enough for him_ , and _I might screw this up_ melted away for the moment.

The feeling of Masaki relaxing against him and sucking on his tongue made Jouji moan more deeply. He felt himself stirring as the last of his cold pain and sharp terror drained from his body. He had been spared the death of his loved one this time. He rolled them, pulling Masaki on top of him and not caring about how hard the floor was. He just wanted Masaki's warm weight on top of him. The instant he had it, he stirred harder and ran his arms around Masaki's back, clutching two handfuls of his coat again.

Masaki moaned and draped himself over Jouji securely, appreciating the body-shielding position. He clung and kissed Jouji's neck and ear, sighing with relief. "I've always wanted to. I always felt – a little – but I didn't want to push – and I love you so much." He buried one hand in Jouji's hair and kissed Jouji deeply again. "So much." He kissed Jouji's face and then returned to Jouji's neck, kissing and lapping at it. There was so much he wanted to express, all at once. And Jouji's hardness made him harder in return.

At the kisses to his neck, Jouji clung to Masaki tighter and moaned sharply. He felt his lower back arch up from the floor. "I love you, too. God, so much." Far beyond words. He tilted his head to the side, baring more of his neck and giving Masaki more space to pull the coat and shirt collars aside. He let his eyes drift shut as pleasure washed through him. "Masaki . . ."

Masaki took the invitation and pulled the coat and shirt collar aside, undoing Jouji's tie and the top button of Jouji's shirt. He nuzzled, kissed, mouthed, and licked, each gesture bringing with it an undefinable fulfillment. He had always been scared of this moment. Scared of not having it, and equally scared that it might turn out to be something wrong if he did have it. Instead, his chest was uncomfortably tight as his heart felt like it was swelling. One of his hands found one of Jouji's and squeezed.

Jouji had never felt more sensual, more beautiful, or more loved than in this moment. He moaned under Masaki, his lower back arching more, and squeezed Masaki's hand. A deep heat filled his entire body, most intensely in his erection, but washing through every cell of his being. He realized he had never wanted this from anyone else except Masaki because he considered Masaki's love pure and perfect. "Yes," he gasped. "Masaki, yes. Always." _I want to be like this with you always._

A burden lifted off of Masaki, and his eyes burned. Always. Not today, tomorrow, or a month, but always. "I always only wanted always," he whispered. "I was too shy to ask for it. It seemed so much to – to –" Then he was passionately licking, mouthing, and gently sucking, exploring Jouji's neck and collarbone, quivering as he felt how wet he was making his underwear and how good it felt to be alive and to be sharing this intimacy with the only person he ever wanted to give it to.

Jouji cried out. Tears stung his eyes again, this time tears of pleasure. "Masaki!" He squeezed Masaki's hand tighter and felt his hips trembling with the sudden increase in pleasure. "It's what I wanted, too. Don't let go. Don't ever let go." He knew in that moment that all the things he'd heard about men doing with men were things he could do with Masaki—not just for the sexual ecstasy but also for the intimate connection and sharing. He ran his hand up Masaki's spine and cupped the back of his neck. Then he massaged lightly. "I want it all. Ultimately. With time, I want to share it all with you."

Masaki gasped. This was more than he'd ever dared to expect out of life. It didn't matter if they were together in public or in secret. It only mattered that they were going to give themselves to each other and know what it was like to glow inside with the light of another person. "Yes." Life changed in this instant. He was no longer worried about what he had been worried about before. He nibbled and kissed his way up Jouji's neck and mouthed Jouji's ear. "Yes. It will all be special." He squeezed Jouji's hand tightly.

Jouji shivered at the kiss to his ear and relaxed. The relaxation wasn't physical but rather deep inside his soul. He hadn't dared to believe he would be granted the one person he loved most. Now he had been. Every fear, worry, and doubt evaporated, at least for the time being, and he felt completely still and quiet on the inside. The feeling brought with it an abiding joy without disturbing his state of arousal. "Masaki," he whispered, just to hear his name. "I'm your boyfriend now, right? And I get to call you 'boyfriend,' too?"

Masaki blushed and smiled, so happy to hear those words that he could hardly believe this was all happening. "Yes," he whispered back. "You're my boyfriend…and I'm your boyfriend."

He felt such a sense of wholesome pride at that, a reconfirming and strengthening of his identity. He felt, for once, good.

Masaki kissed over Jouji's face, both ears, and then finally mouthed Jouji's lips, inhaling deeply with every breath this new reality.

At those words, matched to the renewed kiss, Jouji felt a burning in his groin as his arousal surged higher. He massaged the back of Masaki's neck with one hand and splayed his fingers over the middle of Masaki's back with the other. He mouthed Masaki's lips in return, moaning softly. He'd already had a clear sense of what he wanted out of life professionally: to be Masaki's Chief Tactician and serve at his side for their entire career. Now he knew what he wanted romantically: to be Masaki's boyfriend, even if Masaki got married to a woman. She'd simply have to be a woman who accepted complex relationships.

When they paused to breathe, Jouji caught Masaki's gaze, looking deep into his eyes and smiling. "What do you want to share this morning, right now? Other than kissing, I mean. What will make this day worth plowing through when we've had no real sleep and you've been fighting? And when we've both been scared out of our minds that the other was dead?"

Masaki already knew. "Sharing what it feels like to come with you. Finishing each other. That's what I want. Then I want to go home on the bus with you in my arms, and not care if people stare."

Jouji blushed. "Well, I don't know if we can get away with the latter part." His blush deepened. "But we can definitely get away with the first part." He transferred one hand to Masaki's cheek and stroked it. He could feel from the way their bodies were fitted together just how hard they both were. "And how do you want to finish?" he murmured.

"I want us to touch each other at the same time, until we're both about to come. Then I want you to come first, and then I'll follow after." Masaki kissed Jouji's lips. "I don't care how filthy we are or aren't. We can use the school showers in the locker room afterwards if we really want to."

Jouji thought that one through logically. "We can't afford to get this on our uniforms." He scanned the teacher's desk and noticed a box of tissues. "We need to catch it." He pointed to the box. "Several of those a piece will do."

Masaki kissed Jouji's neck again and climbed off just long enough to get the box of tissues. Then he settled back down on Jouji, already missing Jouji's warmth, and cuddled up again, feeling punch drunk, aroused, happy, and playful. He kissed Jouji's jawline and lightly nibbled on Jouji's neck. "This is wonderful. The most wonderful thing that's ever happened."

"By far," Jouji murmured, moaning softly from the kisses and nibbles. An impish streak fired through him, and he grinned up at Masaki. "How about a compromise? You sit up and hold me—facing away from you—on your lap." He blushed hotly. "I'll, ah, pull down my pants so you can get to me and keep the tissues in hand. No wet—or should I say wetter?—underwear, and no ruined uniform."

Masaki blushed and did as Jouji suggested. He gasped and felt another surge of happiness when Jouji got ready. Then he helped Jouji settle against him. Jouji was perfect in his arms, and his erection throbbed against Jouji's bottom. He kissed all over the back of Jouji's neck. "I want to touch you. Can I?"

Jouji moaned at the kisses to the nape of his neck. "Oh, yes. Definitely." He positioned one tissue over his abdomen, just in case, and relaxed back against Masaki's chest, letting his head fall back against his shoulder. Having his pants and boxers down around his knees struck him as erotic. "I want you to."

Masaki kissed Jouji's neck again and slipped his hands lower, watching over Jouji's shoulder. He gently wrapped his left hand around Jouji's erection and cupped Jouji's balls with his right hand. Then, slowly, he stroked with both hands, using the same care with Jouji that he used on himself. Faster, slower, a little firmer, then a little softer. He wanted to stimulate Jouji in a variety of ways, because that always worked best for him. "Is it good? Tell me if you want me to adjust."

Jouji cried out sharply, having not expected the dual touch. He felt his lower back arching again, which pressed his shoulders back against Masaki's chest. "Oh, god yes." He closed his eyes, knowing that if he watched he wouldn't last thirty seconds. "Masaki!" He reached down and clutched Masaki's thighs by wrapping his fingers under his legs. "Masaki, there is no place I'd rather be." Shudders of pleasure ran through his hips.

Masaki breathed in sharply, letting out a little noise. He felt such a surge of love in this moment that he trembled. "Neither would I. I want to be here." He stroked Jouji with renewed tenderness, care, and attention, every last second of Jouji's hot, beautiful squirming and moaning saved within him forever.

Jouji could feel Masaki's love and dedication in every caress. He whimpered sharply as the ecstasy of it multiplied. "Masaki," he moaned. "Masaki . . ." With Masaki's hands on him and sitting on Masaki's lap, encircled in his arms, Jouji felt deeply and uniquely Masaki's. Instead of being a creepy feeling of being owned, it was a joyful feeling of having achieved a oneness with someone, a unity. He no longer had words for the love and awe he felt. It was singular. He opened his eyes, gazed down at Masaki's strong, warm hands stroking him, and felt his body cresting. He grabbed his handful of tissues, covering his tip just in time. Then his hips were jerking, and he was crying out as he came.

Masaki held onto Jouji closely as Jouji came, arms encircling Jouji's waist. He kissed Jouji's neck, the back of Jouji's head, Jouji's ears. "You're wonderful and you're beautiful and you're mine. I'll take care of you forever and make sure you're never alone. And you're always loved. No matter how you need loving, I'll make sure you have it."

Jouji collapsed back onto Masaki's chest again, so relieved—both emotionally and sexually—that he felt melted. "I want you to," he whispered. He grabbed two more tissues and made sure he was fully cleaned up. Then he turned his head and rested his forehead against Masaki's chin. "And now, I'll take care of you and love you in the way you need to be loved."

Masaki felt absolutely giddy at Jouji's response, and if they had been at home, he could have easily snuggled for the next three hours. Jouji's sweet words made his body alert and sensitive. He couldn't help smiling, awed and excited and touched. "I want to be chest to chest with you, with your hand in between us. Because I know we have to keep this clean, I'll be on standby with tissues in one hand so I can slip my hand in there at the last second."

"Okay." Jouji climbed off of Masaki and pulled his boxers and pants back up, righting himself so he could straddle Masaki's lap easily. He also watched with awe as Masaki pulled his pants and boxers down. He'd seen Masaki naked briefly in places like communal showers, but he'd never seen him hard. "You're beautiful, Masaki," he murmured as he climbed onto his lap again. Masaki was perfectly arched, rosy, swollen.

With a sense of powerful pleasure and fulfillment, Jouji reached between them and wrapped his fingers around Masaki's erection. The heat felt wonderful against his palm. "Beautiful," he murmured again, caressing over Masaki's length.

Masaki blushed and hugged Jouji closely. "I want you to think I'm beautiful. No one else matters. I want to be seen by you, not somebody else." Jouji's caresses soon made him moan. His hips squirmed a little with every stroke. Within moments, he was throbbing powerfully in Jouji's hand and biting his lip. "I'm going to come soon," he admitted. "Watching you and touching you first was really powerful."

Jouji reached up with his free hand and cupped Masaki's face. "That will be beautiful, too." He pulled Masaki down into a gentle kiss. He kept his strokes slow and languid, wanting Masaki to last as long as he could. _I want to bring you all the pleasure in the world._

Masaki moaned and kissed Jouji and then let his head fall back. He felt the wetness on Jouji's hand and knew it was his and felt a shy, embarrassed pleasure in the sharing. And soon, his erection pulsed, and then his whole body did, and then he was contracting. He came gently but thoroughly, moaning as he orgasmed into the tissues in his hand.

When he was finished Masaki tossed the tissues in the waste basket and then lay on his back.

Jouji lay down on top of Masaki, curling up on his chest. "That was the most gorgeous thing I've ever seen," he whispered, "just like I knew it would be." He pressed a kiss to Masaki's cheek. "I'll dare to claim we're the two happiest people alive." He stroked Masaki's chest.

"I feel like we are," Masaki whispered. He ran his hands over Jouji's back slowly, cherishing the fact that Jouji was there.

Jouji positioned his head so he could listen to Masaki's heartbeat. It was slow and strong. "Ne, Masaki. I'm not worried about the future anymore. I'm not worried about it because I know you're going to be with me."

Masaki smiled sleepily. "Same here. I'm not worried. Anymore." He stroked Jouji's hair.


End file.
